Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Benin and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Beasts of Bourbon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Wings. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Count Five,
The Moleskins,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jeff Mills,
Cluster,
Glenn Branca,
The Moody Blues,
The Monks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bob Dylan,
Grey Daturas,
Chris Corsano,
Alton Ellis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lightning Bolt,
Lower 48,
World's Most,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Smoke,
Mr. Review,
Sällskapet,
FM Einheit,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantytec,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Young Rascals,
The Cowsills,
The Trojans,
Excepter,
Minor Threat,
Toni Rubio,
The Wake,
H. Thieme,
Danielle Patucci,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
The Blackbyrds,
The Martian,
The Fall,
Juan Atkins,
Skarface,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vladislav Delay,
Quantec,
Con Funk Shun,
The New Christs,
T. Rex,
Nation of Ulysses,
48th St. Collective,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gap Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fortunes,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.